


Spring

by wellperhaps



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Lavellan and Bull vs. humans, Lavellan needs a break, Mentioned Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 23:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellperhaps/pseuds/wellperhaps
Summary: Lavellan tasted a spoonful. It was surprisingly tasty, no doubt seasoned with Northern herbs.“Qunari military issue, right? Not bad.”“Yeah. Unlike the damn Andrastians, The Qun doesn’t believe in torturing warriors with bland food.”Lavellan snorted, and saluted Bull with their fish on a stick.“To not being tortured by the damn Andrastians.”





	Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age Prompt Exchange.
> 
> The prompt:
> 
> The Dalish are used to surviving on whatever they can catch or craft themselves, so being Inquisitor and having cooks, servants, smiths, and soldiers at their beck and call is a little strange and hard to get used to. Feeling overcome the Inquisitor steps out for a few days to go hunting in the low lands and live as they are accustomed. Who do they bring with them? Or do they go alone?

The boots had been the last straw. Well, not the boots themselves. Lavellan had accepted the necessity of wearing the damn things months ago, and even gotten somewhat accustomed to them. It wasn’t by far the most annoying or arbitrary thing the human society had thrown at them.

One night they had stumbled into their quarters after a long day of negotiations and not at all pleasant pleasantries with the visiting nobles. Lavellan didn’t much like their rooms, but at least there they could hide from the never-ending demands of the Inquisition. They had shucked off their boots and clothes in a pile beside their (huge, too soft, intimidating) bed, crawled under the covers and fallen asleep right away.

When they had woken up, the pile of clothes had been gone. There was a new, nearly identical set of clothes neatly folded on the chair. The boots had been cleaned and arranged next to the chair. Lavellan had stared at the boots, their mind blank. Someone had polished the buckles in the middle of the night.

That had been three days ago. Now Lavellan was sitting by a small pond, chewing on fireweed and watching a cork bob on the end of their fishing line. The spring air wasn’t warm, exactly, but summer was close enough that the sunlight warmed Lavellan’s face. While Skyhold’s outer walls were still coated in ice and snow, down here the snow had melted and first flowers were already starting to bloom.

A small bird took flight from the bushes as someone stepped out of from among the willows and walked down to the shore. Lavellan didn’t bother looking up, keeping their eyes on the cork instead. Afternoon sunlight glistened on the surface of the water. It formed a lovely golden net around the cork.

“Finally decided to let me catch up with you, boss?” The Iron Bull said. Lavellan shrugged.

“Thanks for not bringing the whole damn Inquisition with you. The partridges are nesting on the ground. I don’t want people trampling all over them,” Lavellan said.

“Not going to lie, Cassandra did want to send the troops to scour the area. Fat lot of good that would have done if you had really taken off. It took some fast talking before she agreed to let me go alone.”

“And didn’t I? Really take off I mean.”

“Nah. You’ve been walking in circles. My guess is that you just needed some time off. I can’t blame you. Want to talk about it?”

Bull sat down next to Lavellan. He was close enough that Lavellan could feel the heat from his body. Lavellan wanted to lean into him, but wrapped their arms around their knees instead.

“I didn’t know they come to my bedroom at night. The servants. Shouldn’t sleeping be private, at least? There’s always someone hovering behind my shoulder. If nothing else, they want me to want something from _them_. How can anyone live like that?” Lavellan said with a small, whiny voice that surprised themselves. There hadn’t been much room for whining lately.

“Tell you what,” Bull said. “We’ll ask Sera to talk with the staff. She knows everyone who works close to you. And if you want something more concrete, Sera and Dagna can take a look at the locks on your bedroom door. I know it doesn’t solve the real issue, but it’s something at least, right?”

“Yes. Thank you, Bull.”

“No problem.”

They sat in silence for a while. Lavellan caught a perch the size of their hand. After gutting it, they took one of its eyes and slid it onto the hook.

“Is that a good method? To lure fish in with the body parts of their own kind? Seems a bit… I dunno.”

Lavellan guided the hook back into the water, laughing.

“Sure. It is ‘a bit’. But waste not, right?”

Soon enough they had three fat perch cleaned and hidden from the sun. Lavellan considered Bull, nearly three times Lavellan’s size.

“I can live on fireweed stalks and nutgrass roots, but I hope you brought food for yourself.”

Bull had. He dug out supplies from his pack, and made a fire. They had a perfectly nice meal of roots and fish cooked on a stick. Bull cooked some sort of mystery powder into a stew. Lavellan tasted a spoonful. It was surprisingly tasty, no doubt seasoned with Northern herbs.

“Qunari military issue, right? Not bad.”

“Yeah. Unlike the damn Andrastians, The Qun doesn’t believe in torturing warriors with bland food.”

Lavellan snorted, and saluted Bull with their fish on a stick.

“To not being tortured by the damn Andrastians.”

 

*

 

Later in the evening one of Leliana’s unnatural ravens landed on the waterfront rocks. The elf and the qunari stared at it while it helped itself to the fish guts.

“Those things freak me out,” Bull said.

“Me too. Do you think they’re possessed somehow?”

Bull shuddered.

“Fuck if I know. I’m trying not to think about it.”

Bull had writing supplies with him, like he always did. Lavellan wrote a short note, letting Leliana know they were fine and would return with Bull in due time. The raven barely allowed Lavellan to finish tying the note to its leg before taking off into the night.

“It didn’t even thank us for the meal,” Lavellan said. Bull huffed a laugh. Lavellan felt resigned. The raven had taken with it the thought of leaving the Inquisition for good. Not that Lavellan had seriously considered it. It had been a nice possibility to toy with, all the same. _What if I just kept on walking._ No chance of that now. They’d promised to go back.

Bull squeezed their shoulder with his huge hand.

“Boss, I’ll do what I can to make it easier for you. I’ll have a word with Josephine. I know her plate is full, but we could make Dorian represent you in formal occasions or something.”

“Dorian? What, does the Qun _want_ us to start a war with the Orlesians?” Lavellan asked and nudged Bull with their elbow, amused.

“Shit, you’ve got us all figured out now. But seriously, maybe not Dorian, but someone. It doesn’t always have to be you.”

“I think we could just slap some glowing green paint on the palm of every elf in Skyhold. The human nobles can’t tell us apart anyway. I’m sure Dagna could cook up something.”

“That’s not a bad idea. At least the nobles might treat the elven staff members better.”

 

The meal and the warmth of the fire made Lavellan feel tired and heavy. They closed their eyes and watched the red firelight dance behind their eyelids. Lavellan felt Bull sit down next to them. He wrapped his heavy arm around their shoulder and pulled them close. Lavellan didn’t have it in them to protest.

“We’ll make it work. If you and me don’t make it through this mess, it’s going to be because we get eaten by a dragon or something, not because we let ourselves drown in human bullshit. Alright, Lavellan?”  
  


“Right now getting eaten by a dragon sounds sort of appealing. I’m so tired all the time. I never used to be tired, not like this. Sleeping doesn’t help.” Lavellan spoke into Bull’s skin. They didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by the outburst.

“Yeah, I know. I know. You’re so fucking young. We need to take better care of you.”

  
*

Lavellan woke up with their head pressed against Bull’s chest. Bull was lying on his bedroll, his huge blanket wrapped around them both. Lavellan had only a vague recollection of settling there, but for some reason that didn’t bother them.

They bathed in the pond. Bull got some sort of sticky waterweed stuck on his horns, and he had to let a snickering Lavellan help him get it off.

“This is why the Qunari don’t swim,” Bull muttered.  
  


“That’s not even true. I know for a fact that the Qunari swim. You’re just bitter because _you_ are a bad swimmer,” Lavellan said. They shook the weed from their hands and dived back into the water. Bull thought they looked like an otter, sleek and quick. Lavellan swam until they reached a rock protruding from the water in the middle of the pond. They pulled themselves up and sat there waving to Bull like some sort of water nymph with remarkably messy hair. Bull threw a mussel their way, missing them by a yard on purpose.

 

*  
  


Bull and Lavellan spent a few days wandering around the area. They stopped whenever they found a pretty spot, and slept whenever they felt like it. When they were on the move, Bull followed Lavellan. The elf disappeared from sight from time to time. Bull wasn’t worried about them. Lavellan had their bow and their daggers. More than that, Bull thought it was unlikely anyone would even notice the Dalish hunter if they didn’t want to be seen. If Bull was being honest to himself, he was the one more likely to walk into an ambush. Bull might lose sight of Lavellan in the woodlands, but it was unlikely that the elf ever lost sight of him for long.

Then one afternoon Lavellan appeared from under the trees and pressed a finger to their mouth, urging Bull to stay quiet. They led Bull to a hilltop. From there they watched as two human scouts made their way along the narrow path Bull had been walking on.  
  


“They look Orlesian,” Bull whispered.

 

“Yes. Let’s follow them.”

  
They didn’t have to track the scouts for long before they left the forest and returned to the main road. A caravan of three carts and a fancy carriage was waiting on the roadside.  
  


Bull and Lavellan watched them for a while. The travelers seemed to be an Orlesian merchant with her company, who were escorting Nevarran nobles and their servants. That they were on their way to Skyhold didn’t need to be said. There was nowhere else to go on these mountains.

“Do you think they have silks?” Bull whispered.

“Why?” Lavellan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you want a fancier pair of pants? You don’t strike me as a silk sort of person.”

“No, but I sort of ruined someone’s… an article of someone’s clothing.”

“Bull! Did you rip a noble lady’s bodice with your teeth or something?” Lavellan said, laughing. “I’m sure anyone who wears silk around Skyhold can afford to replace their unmentionables.”

“Not everyone,” Bull answered, sounding strangely wistful. Lavellan considered.

“It’s Dorian, isn’t it? You slept with Dorian. And ruined his clothes.”

Bull didn’t answer, only turned to look Lavellan in the eye. He looked a little sheepish. A slow grin spread on Lavellan’s face.

“Good man. I’m sure there’s been a bet going on. Now, let’s go greet those fancy humans. If they have silks, we get to have the first pick.”

“You’re the Inquisitor. You always get the first pick,” Bull pointed out.

“That’s right. And as the Inquisitor, I say we go buy Dorian something pretty.”

Lavellan leaped up and started to make their way towards the road with quick, light steps. Bull heaved himself up and followed them. The humans noticed them soon enough, and started shouting and running around with their weapons drawn. Typical. Lavellan raised their hand, ostensibly in greeting but mostly to show the green light emitting from their palm. The weapons were lowered.

Bull stayed behind Lavellan, playing the bodyguard. He watched with amusement as the Nevarran nobles and the Orlesian merchant tried to find their bearings while Lavellan introduced themselves as “that Dalish Inquisitor, at your service and all that”. Who knows what they were expecting to find, but the Inquisitor just appearing on the roadside, barefoot and their hair sticking out every which way, sure wasn’t it.

“We can do more of the formal curtsey things when we get to Skyhold,” Lavellan said. “But right now I’m more interested in your wares. Do you, by any chance, have any silk with you? Perhaps in pink?”

 

Bull didn’t bother hiding his grin. The kid was going to be alright.


End file.
